I miss it.

If I am not the thing to take my life, nostalgia will. The memories of my younger self, I was running to my mommy whenever I was sad. Pretending to throw up whenever my parents would kiss, and pretending to fall asleep so my daddy would carry me in. I miss elementary school, My teachers, my friends, my mind. Simple and pure, I miss it. Nostalgia catches up to me randomly, When I hear my mother talking to my dad over the phone about what weeks are who's, And suddenly, I've never wanted my parents back together so much. When I see the girl, I used to be best friends with hanging out with the girl I hate, I've never wanted to be laughing with her so much again. I miss it. I miss the past.